A lot of the High Fens is marshy moorland, impossible to visit. Except you can: on boardwalks, which will keep your feet dry as you walk out over the wettest parts. In spring, the cotton grass – like tiny clouds on a stick – nod gently in the wind. Here and there, the bare skeletons of old spruce trees rise up out of the landscape. The trees fell victim to a fire in 2011 and have haunted the landscape ever since – a sight to guarantee goose bumps, especially in foggy weather! The water in most of the ponds is blackened by the peaty soil, but on sunny autumn days, the fen grass glows a reddish-orange, creating an unforgettable colour scheme, rich in contrasts.
After about a third of the way you will pass a cross. This is the Cross of the Betrothed, commemorating a tragic tale of young couple who became lost in a snowstorm in 1871. You can read the full story on the nearby information panel – a warning that you have to take care in the High Fens. Close to the cross is a boundary stone that once marked the border between Belgium and Prussia. The lettering on the sides tells you in which part you are standing. The path winds on past birch trees, heather and ferns, and small streams emerge from the scrub from time to time, gurgling quietly.
